Chapter Twenty

The Execution

 

Korwahk Queens had execution apparel.

I learned this when my clothes were taken off and new ones put on. A large, square piece of black silk, folded and tied around my breasts, the end dangling down and coming to a point at my navel from which two gold disks were stitched and hung down, one to each point, two more hitting me, cold and heavy, from the tie at my back. A black sarong shot with gold. A black belt made of woven leather with gold chains braided through. A gold choker made of links that covered my neck from base to chin. My gold bands were pushed up to my biceps, long, wide gold loops fixed to my earlobes. Black leather sandals were tied to my feet.

My makeup of the day was gently but swiftly washed off and black kohl went around my eyes, charcoal gray eye shadow, the dusting of gold powder along my cheekbones and temples and deep berry lip tint was painted on my lips.

My hair was left as it was, hanging long in twists and curls but the pins and clips adorning it for the day were removed and Teetru slid her fingers through, shaking it and ratting it out a bit so it even felt big.

The golden band of feathers was laced through my hair and tied around my head.

The minute Diandra walked us through the tent flaps, I saw the warriors. Not one, two or four… but ten. As Diandra guided me toward the sea of chams, they fell in, four in front, one on either side, four in the rear.

The Daxshee was eerily silent and as we walked we saw not a single soul. Night had fallen and torchlight lit the vast space. I could see the open space on the rise nearly to the opposite end of the Daxshee was blazing with fire and even from a distance, I saw people gathering there and this was because there were a lot of them.

And I knew that was where we were going.

The air was wrong, as it had been when I woke up to it that morning and all day but now it was worse. It pressed in. It felt thick.

I couldn’t breathe.

“The Dax was tolerant, my dear,” Diandra whispered to me as we walked. She had, as usual, curved my hand around the inside of her elbow, pulled me close and held her other hand over mine. “It is a blessing,” she went on. “He does not punish you or his warriors, he took his time to explain his judgment to you; he did this gently, beautiful Circe. I am astounded. It is a blessing.”

I kept my eyes straight ahead as I whispered back, “I adore you, my sweet friend, but right now, I need to prepare myself for what’s going to happen so can I ask that you please be quiet?”

She removed my hand from her arm but slid hers along my waist and pulled me even closer as she murmured, “Of course, my love.”

I slid my arm around her waist and we walked through the silent, vacant Daxshee. It was a long walk but not long enough for me to prepare myself to witness the execution of a woman whose only crime was to be beautiful enough to capture the attention of a Korwahk scout.

Finally, in front of us, through the warrior guards I saw a wall of people, shoulder to shoulder. They saw us and parted slowly so we could pass. When we did, I held onto Diandra tighter, looked straight ahead and avoided all eyes. They thought I’d done wrong, many of them probably thought I should be punished, but that wasn’t why I avoided their eyes. I didn’t think I had it in me to face this and I needed to hold together what I had so I didn’t lose it, not now, not this early. Whatever brought me here, I was their queen. I needed to act like one.

Then we walked into a clearing lit relatively brightly with torches all around and firepits burning on the rise and my eyes immediately went to what was in it.

Dortak, standing, feet planted wide, arms crossed on his chest, bandage around his shoulder, back to us but his neck was twisted so he could watch us arrive.

I barely took him in before my eyes dropped to the stone to see his bride at his feet. She was on her knees, bent fully forward, forehead to her hands which were resting on the stone.

From what I could see, she was wearing a stark white gauze sarong.

My eyes went to the rise where I could see Lahn standing on a platform with our thrones side by side, firepits next to it, torches surrounding it.

He was painted.

I felt something at my side, looked there and saw Seerim was next to Diandra. He had his hand on her but suddenly looked to the rise and I followed his eyes to see Lahn shake his head once. I looked back to Seerim who was nodding. He dropped his hand to take his wife’s and even in the torchlit night I saw the firm squeeze before he moved away and disappeared.

I was to have my friend.

Thank God.

My friend was to have a front row seat at an execution.

She walked tall and her step didn’t falter nor did she leave my side.

As promised.

Damn, but I owed her huge.

I looked back to the rise and noticed that Bain and Zahnin were both standing behind my throne. As we approached, Lahn sat on his. He was in king mode, I knew this the minute his blank, painted eyes left me and he sat on his throne.

I did not dally. The guard peeled off and I walked right to my throne and sat down, Diandra standing at my side.

The drums started pounding, the small ones, but the noise thumped like a giant mallet into the night.

My hands went to the armrests of my chair, my fingers curling around and I squeezed.

Then suddenly the drums stopped and the instant they did, Lahn shouted and Diandra bent to my ear to interpret.

“We are here because the new bride of Dortak took steel to her husband!”

No one said a word. The torchlight danced, the firepits crackled. My fingers tensed into my throne.

Lahn spoke. “Now, she must receive my judgment!”

I swallowed and my eyes dropped to the woman who was still bowed low to her king.

Then a whisper went through the air, I looked up and saw a warrior push through the crowd. He strode into the small clearing that was nowhere near the vast space of the ceremonial clearing of the other encampment and stopped.

It was Bohtan.

He shouted and Diandra translated, “I wish to speak, my king!”

“You will be heard!” Lahn shouted back.

Bohtan didn’t delay. “Our golden warrior queen has championed Dortak’s bride. She has a bond with the wife of Dortak and she has a bond with my wife Nahka. My wife Nahka has felt this bond constrict, linking her through our true golden queen to Dortak’s bride and, should it be your command to spare her life, she wishes to assist our queen in resurrecting the new bride of Dortak’s spirit.”

My lungs seized and my body went solid right along with them.

Another whisper went through the air as Lahn remained silent.

The girl five feet from the base of our thrones didn’t twitch but Dortak’s face twisted with disgust.

Then another warrior pushed into the clearing. My eyes went to him and I saw it was Feetak.

“I wish to speak, my king!” he shouted.

“You will be heard!” Lahn returned.

Feetak didn’t delay. “My new bride Narinda also shares a bond with our queen. She tells me she too wishes to assist our queen in resurrecting the wife of Dortak’s spirit.”

I felt Diandra’s hand curl tight into my shoulder indicating she was gravely surprised at these proceedings and I was too, especially considering Narinda didn’t have near enough command of the Korwahk language to inform Feetak of this but somehow she’d either managed it or he’d assumed it and for her, or simply because he was a good man, he stepped forward.

I held tight to my throne as I stared and tried to control my rapid breaths.

Another warrior pushed forward. “I wish to speak, my king!”

And another, “I wish to speak, my king!”

I shiver slid over my skin.

Oh my God!

Diandra’s fingers squeezed so hard, they caused pain.

And then came another, “I wish to speak, my king!”

And another, “I wish to speak, my king!”

Three more came in simultaneously from three different sides. “I wish to speak, my king!”

Dortak’s arms dropped, he took a step back and his head swung around to take in his brothers, his face now distorted with rage.

His bride didn’t twitch.

More warriors came forward and shouted the same words.

“Enough!” Lahn boomed, I looked to him and saw he had his hand up.

He did not look at me.

I turned back to the clearing to see it now nearly filled with warriors, Dortak and his bowing bride in white.

The air pressed in as I and the silent crowd held our breath.

Finally, Lahn spoke. “Bride of Dortak, give your king your eyes.”

She didn’t hesitate to push up to sitting on her calves and her eyes lifted to Lahn. She was wearing a wide strip of gauze around her breasts and a thin one was wrapped around the cut on her throat. Her face had been cleaned but her left eye was nearly swollen shut, purple and bruising.

I swallowed again.

“The warriors of Suh Tunak speak for you,” Lahn told her.

She lifted her chin.

“Their wives speak for you,” Lahn went on.

She lifted her chin again.

“Is it your wish for my queen and her women to resurrect your spirit?” Lahn asked and I held onto my throne as Diandra’s fingers clenched into my shoulder.

He was giving her an out!

She shook her head.

No!

I tensed to shoot out of my chair but Diandra’s hand held me down.

“You understand that judgment has been passed?” Lahn asked.

She lifted her chin.

“And you accept that judgment,” Lahn stated.

She lifted her chin again.

No!

I felt my lips tremble as my body shuddered with the effort to stay seated and unmoving.

I wanted to reach out to Lahn. I wanted him to tell her that it was his decision that she must allow me and the wives of Suh Tunak to resurrect her spirit. I sent this thought into the night and hoped it found his mind.

It didn’t.

I knew it when he said quietly, “Very well, my sister.”

My head snapped to the side and I saw his head turned away and he was lifting his chin at something. My eyes flew there and I saw The Eunuch come forward with a long, thin blade.

Lahn turned back to the woman and I did too, seeing her sitting on her calves, apparently calm. I looked at Dortak to see him smiling.

God, God, God but I fucking hated that man.

My fingers tightened so deeply into the horns I feared they’d break through as The Eunuch positioned behind her, bent forward, cupped her, what appeared to be strangely tenderly, under her jaw and held the blade to her throat.

Then he lifted his eyes to his king.

“Do you have words, sister?” Lahn asked softly.

The woman in white stared at him. Then, slowly, her eyes slid to me.

Then a small, tragic smile drifted across her mouth and she said one word.

“Rainbow.”

And then so fast it was almost as if I didn’t see it, her hands shot up, she grasped the knife, tearing it away from The Eunuch who shouted in surprise. She took it by the hilt, pointed it to her belly, shoved it in and drew it up.

Blood spewed from the wound, loud gasps, cries and exclamations could be heard all around but I shot to standing, my arms straight down, my head tilted back and I shrieked to the heavens.

“No!”

At the exact same time I cried, lightning rent the sky, a crack of thunder filled the air, the heavens opened and rain poured down.

“End her misery!” Lahn shouted.

Somehow I knew he was now standing but I didn’t look. My head tipped down to see she had fallen forward.

The Eunuch didn’t delay, he dropped to his knees, his hands went to Dortak’s bride, he pulled her back across his thighs and he tore the blade from her belly. Her pained eyes captured mine and I held them as he swiftly drew the blade across her throat, blood surged out, wetting the stone and I watched, my eyes locked to hers for the terrible, brief seconds it took the life to drain from her eyes.

The rain came down in sheets, already washing her blood in a dark river across the light stone.

“No,” I whispered as the tears filled my eyes, the rain beat against my skin, my hair, my clothing, all of it soaked within seconds.

Dortak roared in triumph, my eyes went to him and he pounded a fist in his chest then punched it in the air, turned and pushed his way roughly through the crowd.

Then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Two men and four women. The men were carrying something and one of the women had a huge wad of white material in her hands. They made it to the fallen woman and the women arranged the material flat on the wet stone as the men lifted her with care and then set her at one end. They moved away as the women gently rolled her lifeless body, wrapping her tight in her wet, white gauze shroud; the blood still seeping from her wounds staining it red.

Once she was wrapped, the men came forward, lifted her onto a stretcher and swiftly all of them moved out of the clearing.

“Kah Lahnahsahna,” Lahn called.

Fogged like I was in a dream, my head slowly turned to him and I saw his paint dissolving down his body as the rain beat into him.

His arm was extended to me.

I stared at him.

“Go to your king,” Diandra whispered in my ear, her hands at my waist, pushing. “Now, my love.”

I moved to my king, he took my hand, pulled me close, bent our arms and held my hand tucked close to his chest, me to his side and we stepped off the platform, walked down the rise, through the gathered throng that was standing, silent and unmoving (except to let us through) in the driving rain.

I kept my head up, my eyes straight but that didn’t mean I didn’t cry the whole way home.

* * * * *

My girls were in the cham when we arrived and they sprung into action.

My clothes and jewels were taken away but before Packa could put a cloth to me to dry my wet skin, Lahn murmured, “Tahkoo tan,” and they hurried out of the cham.

Lahn, also still wet, his black paint seeping, but now hideless, came to me and gently he pulled me into bed not only under the silk sheet but also under the first layer of hides.

Then he pulled me into his arms, face to face, his hand cupping the back of my head pressing my face to his throat.

I listened to the rain beating on the top of the cham and wondered how the material didn’t get saturated and the wet didn’t seep through.

As I wondered this, Lahn held me close.

Then I whispered, “Your Hunt did that to her.”

“Rayloo, kah rahna fauna,” Lahn said softly, giving me a squeeze.

He understood my words even though I spoke my language, I knew it.

“Your Hunt drove her to that.” I was still whispering.

“Rayloo, Circe.”

“She was beautiful.” I kept whispering.

Lahn didn’t respond.

“He killed her beauty and slaughtered her soul.”

Lahn said nothing for a moment then he asked quietly, “Soul?”

“My people’s word for pahnsahna, her spirit,” I said just as quietly.

That got me another squeeze.

Then his hand slid from the back of my head and around to cup my jaw where a thumb under my chin pressed up gently so my head tipped back. He was looking down at me, his eyes, I could see, soft in the candlelight.

“The heavens wept,” he said in Korwahk.

I knew the air felt wrong all day because of the impending storm but I still replied in English, “That happens when innocents are punished.”

“Innocents?” he whispered.

“Ones who did no wrong,” I answered in Korwahk.

His head tilted so his forehead could rest on mine.

I closed my eyes.

Then I opened them and whispered in Korwahk, “You were right, she wished that.”

“I know, my tigress,” he whispered back in English.

I kept whispering when I said in Korwahk, “Thank you for not punishing me.”

His chin jerked back slightly and his forehead came away from mine before he replied, “I would not punish you for being what you are.”

I blinked then asked softly, “What?”

“Kah Circe, you are kah Lahnahsahna, you are my warrior queen. It is who you are. It is not what anyone made you. It shines from your eyes. It is what I see in the boys I select to serve Suh Tunak. It is why I chose you. It is why we suit. It is why together we begin the Golden Dynasty of legend.” His thumb started stroking my jaw as he went on. “I cannot say I do not wish you would have thought before you acted today. If Dortak took her life, it would have ended her torment sooner and saved her from what she endured tonight. But I recognize it is who you are.” I stared up at him, heart in my throat. He was speaking in Korwahk but he was doing it slowly and I understood most of what he said and what he said, I had to admit, moved me. Then I watched his mouth twitch before he finished, “Though I will caution you at least to attempt to rein it in in future. I do not like my queen in black.”

My clothes were kickass here, it was true. But I was with him and I hoped I never had to wear that black outfit again in my life.

“Okay,” I whispered and his lips curved as his thumb swept mine.

“Okay,” he repeated.

I had more to say so I called, “Lahn?”

“Mm?” he murmured with another stroke of my jaw.

Okay, shit, it must be said there were some times when I really liked my husband. Now was one of them.

“Thanks also for not punishing your men,” I said and his grin turned to a smile.

“My Circe,” he started, “on your claiming, you stole my blade. No one, no other man, no other warrior, has ever taken my weapon. Not once. I know when your little warrior shines through, you will stop at nothing. I could not punish Bain for his weapon being seized when you had a mind to seize it for you did the same to me. He could not control you so he and Zahnin sought to control the situation. This is not grounds for punishment.”

Again, he was talking in Korwahk so I didn’t catch it all but I got the gist of it.

And the gist made me stare.

So when he received no response, Lahn spoke quietly. “I like my paint on you, my golden doe, because I like how I put it on you. But I like it more that your warrior spirit deserves the paint.”

I kept staring. Then I asked (in Korwahk), “No one has ever taken your weapon?”

He nodded.

“Wow,” I whispered and he smiled again.

“I do not know what that means, my tigress, but the way you say it and the look on your face, I do not have to ask.”

I felt my face get soft. Then I tilted my head until my forehead rested on his chin. To that, he tilted his until his lips rested on my forehead.

Then, there, he murmured, “The heavens wept at my wife’s command.”

I blinked at his throat and tilted my head back to ask what he meant but before I could say a word, from outside the cham I heard a man shout, “Kah Dax!”

Lahn’s head turned and then, to my shock (and horror, I must add), he shouted, “Enter!” in Korwahk and lifted up to sitting in the bed, taking me with him. The hides fell as he pulled my back to his front so I was facing the cham flaps, his arm across my breasts somewhat covering my nudity from the three warriors who bent and entered our cham.

He didn’t have to shield me. They only had eyes for their king.

Rapid fire Korwahk was thrown but I got this from it:

“You are needed, my king,” one of the warriors.

“I attend my bride,” Lahn (which I thought was nice).

“It is important, my king,” another warrior.

“I leave my wife in our bed, it had better be,” Lahn.

“You have my vow it is,” the second warrior who spoke, spoke again.

Lahn hesitated before he sighed. Then he turned me in his arms, his hand came up to curl around the underside of my jaw and he dipped his face to mine.

“Rest and try to sleep, my tigress. I will return,” he said in English.

I nodded, he held my face steady and touched his lips to mine.

Then he set me in bed, threw the hides over me, exited off the side, went to the trunks, pulled out then yanked on another pair of hides and left the cham still tying them at his hips.

The warriors followed.

The rain fell.

And I lay in bed in the tent, listening to the drops slap against the cham and I tried to do as my husband ordered – rest and sleep.

But all that filled my head was the beautiful, tragic bride of a monster saying a word she did not know but a word I knew in my soul she understood, “Rainbow.”

And I hoped she was over it, her spirit now inhabiting a wonderful world.

* * * * *

I woke when Lahn’s arms shifted me into his body.

Sleepily, I lifted my face to his and my eyes fluttered open.

“Is all well?” I whispered.

“Yes, my golden doe, now sleep.”

I nodded but kept my face tipped to his as his moved closer to mine.

And then when his lips pressed against mine, groggy and not thinking, mine parted.

And the instant they did, his tongue swept inside.

It felt great and he tasted even better.

My body snuggled closer to his as I drowsily offered my mouth to my husband, he accepted, his arms growing tight around me and he drank deep.

When he ended the kiss I felt his lips move against mine as I heard the rough, whispered words, “Golden honey.”

I mumbled, “Mm,” dipped my chin and tucked my face in Lahn’s throat.

Then I fell asleep in his strong, tight arms.